


Ringer

by iLurked



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Import from Tumblr, Written pre 1x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1467016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLurked/pseuds/iLurked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bad girl shenanigans? Not Jemma Simmons!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ringer

It had been a while since Grant Ward had one of those full technicolor, realistic dream.

A dream about a certain quirky, smart biochemist, now that happened every night.

Therefore, when Ward walked into the training room and saw Jemma Simmons’ lithe, supple body twisted into an intricate yoga pose, dressed in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of yoga pants, it was logical to assume that he was still dreaming.

“Hey,” he greeted suavely, because dreams that started with a sexy Jemma almost always ended up positively for him.

Dream!Jemma, however, did not react according to script. Instead, she fluidly untwisted herself and swept out a leg which hit Ward’s, causing him to fall down on the ground.

The impact of his back hitting the floor made Ward question his earlier conclusion that he was dreaming (because that hurt).

“Simmons? What the hell?” Ward groaned.

Instead of apologizing, Jemma smirked and climbed on Ward’s chest. “That will make you think twice before you sneak up behind a woman again, agent.” she breathed before she straightened up and sashayed out.

….

“Fitz! How come you never told me Jemma has an identical twin?”

“That’s because she doesn’t?” Fitz hazarded, too busy with his latest invention to pay full attention to the hacker who strode into his lab like she owned the place.

“That’s BS!” Skye informed him. “If it’s classified information, just tell me! But don’t straight up lie to me to my face.”

“What are you yappin’ about?” Fitz finally put down the latest thingamajig he was creating to look at Skye.

Skye indicated towards the cargo bay hold where Jemma Simmons was talking with Jemma Simmons. One was obviously their Jemma as she was wearing her beloved lab coat on top of a polka-dot white top and jeans. The other was a sexier version of Jemma, who had nothing on but a sports bra and yoga pants.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Fitz asked. At Skye’s incredulous look, he claimed, “They look nothing alike.”

“What? What?” Skye’s jaw dropped. “How can you say that? They’re identical!”

“That one’s obviously Jemma,” Fitz pointed to the Jemma in the sexy outfit. “And that,” he pointed to the normal-looking one. “Is the devil incarnate.” and, evidently deciding that he could no longer work in his laboratory in peace, he sailed out.

“Fitz! Wait. You’re kidding, right? That’s not really the devil, is it? FITZ!”  
…

After taking a long, cold shower, Grant Ward was finally beginning to feel human again. He pushed the button to open his bunk then almost dropped the towel wrapped around his waist in surprise when he looked inside.

“Hello, Agent Ward.” purred Simmons who was lounging on the bed.

“Uh,” he felt his ears grew hot. “I must’ve gotten the wrong bunk. I could’ve sworn—”

“There’s no mistake,” she gave him a come-hither smile. “This is your bunk. I just decided to join you this morning. And we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

Ward had already taken a step forward, ready to take Jemma up on her invitation when he faltered, remembering FitzSimmons’ propensity for practical jokes. He did not reach level seven by being naïve. “Simmons, what are you up to?”

“Me? Just looking for a little fun,” her voice was husky, her eyes inviting. “And it looks like I’m not the only one who’s up.” 

“I’m gonna go now.” Ward swallowed nervously, trying to convince his feet to leave before he say or do something that the science twins were maybe recording. “Okay. ‘Bye.”

…

“Why do have to switch clothes again?” Jemma Simmons demanded. “You usually hate the way I dress.”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer, is it?” Simmons jerked back when a though occurred to her. “You’re not going to lock me in the closet again, are you?”

“Of course not. Well, maybe. Come along, then!”

“This is not funny, Molly. Stop dragging me! Molly!”

…

“I don’t know, Simmons.” Ward sighed. “This new and improved you? Not exactly new and improved. I prefer the old Jemma.”

He had surprised Jemma just as she was sitting down for lunch. She blinked at him in confusion, but managed to reply, “But she’s so lame.”

“She’s not.” Ward smiled encouragingly. “She’s, well, she’s—”

“Awkward? Talkative? Naive? Confusing?”

“No,” Ward looked at her. “Wonderful. She’s wonderful.”

“She is?” at Ward’s nod, Jemma frowned. “But I’m so much better now. I’m stronger, I’m faster, I can even wipe the floor with your arse.”

“Yes. How did you and Fitz do that by the way?” he grabbed her arm to check for the telltale Centipede gadget and breathed in relief when he found none.

“If you want to touch me, Ward, you need only to say the word.”

“And that’s another thing,” Ward said. “That weird thing you do when you’re trying to flirt, that’s not you. I like the old way we used to do things.”

“What? Flirt?” came the incredulous question. “You flirt with Jemma? And she actually flirts back?”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” Jemma waved the questions away. “But you were saying that you have a problem flirting with me?”

“No. I used to love flirting with you. Now, you give off the same weird vibe that most femme fatales have. I don’t like it. It’s a little creepy.”

“Oh,” Jemma gave a small, tired smile at Ward.

Normally, that would be enough to make his day brighter, but right now, her smile left him feeling…bereft.

“I also used to love your smile. Your smile used to make me feel funny in here,” he said, tapping his stomach. “Now, nothing. I can’t feel a thing.” He smiled at her encouragingly. “You and Fitz better fix this and turn you back to normal. And no more experimenting on yourself!” he snapped out the order before walking out.

Molly Simmons shook her head. She stood up and decided to let out her sister from the broom closet.  
…

“Sir, I would like to thank you for giving me a lift to Manila.”

“Anytime, Agent Simmons.” Phil Coulson shook the hand of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent in front of him. “If you are in need of our services again, just contact your sister.”

“I just wish you didn’t lock me in the closet this morning,” Jemma muttered.

Coulson, smart man that he was, opted to pretend to not hear her so that he would not be dragged in the middle of a fight.

“But I know you’ll miss me, anyway.” Molly laughed as she threw her arms around Jemma.

“Sir, our ETA’s in ten minutes.” Grant Ward walked into Coulson’s office. 

“That’s great, Ward.” Coulson grinned. “I believe you’ve met our guest.”

Ward, who had been checking out the tablet he was holding, looked up for the first time.

And saw Jemma Simmons hugging Jemma Simmons.

His reaction was one for the history books: he yelped, fell onto his butt, scuttled backwards, fumbled for the door, and all but ran out, all the while muttering: “I’m still dreaming. I’m still dreaming. I’m still dreaming.”


End file.
